


Fancy Dress Escapade

by lost_spook



Category: Adam Adamant Lives!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is going to a party in search of trouble. Miss Jones is <i>not</i> going to the party and, even if she does, is definitely going to stay out of trouble...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy Dress Escapade

**Author's Note:**

> Written after watching only two or three episodes, so forgive me any horrible errors, but I couldn't resist having a go at catching their voices already.

“There, see!” said Georgie, arriving at Adam’s house, striking a pose in the doorway. “I’m dressed for it. Now, can we go?”

“ _I_ ,” Adam said, with careful emphasis on the word, “am going. You, Miss Jones, are not. Even if that is…” He paused, since Georgina was wearing something that for once he might actually call a dress. It even covered most of the requisite parts of her. “… almost respectable,” he finished. Almost, because it was clearly of poor workmanship and cheap material, no doubt synthetic, like far too many modern items.

Georgie folded her arms, and pouted. “I had to hire this from the fancy dress shop, you know. I thought you’d approve. You keep saying I should be more ladylike. Isn’t this what you meant?”

“Hardly,” said Adam. “A start, perhaps, but irrelevant to the point in question, which is –” He paused, watching as she relieved him of any fear or hope he might have had that she had indeed transformed into a young lady by giving a truly frightful grimace as she tugged at the dress’s bodice.

“How do you breathe in these things?” she asked. “Oof.”

“Ladies don’t need to.”

She pulled another face, which he ignored.

“In any case, as I was saying, all of this is irrelevant to the point in question, which is that you, Miss Jones, will not be accompanying me to this particular party. It is bound to be dangerous.”

Georgie picked up the invitation, and studied it once again. “Well, I am. It says on the card you have to bring a partner. And here I am, all ready and dressed for it.”

“ _No_ , Miss Jones.”

“Oh, well, all right then, I’ll lend this dress to Simms, and you two can go, and if you get any funny looks, don’t blame me.”

Adam moved forward and held up a finger. “Very well, Miss Jones. You may accompany me, but you are to do exactly as I say and keep out of any trouble.”

“Great,” said Georgie, with a wide smile, as he politely crooked his elbow towards her. “Of course. Promise.”

 

_Later:_

“I thought,” said Adam, as sternly as was possible when one was tied to a complicated piece of piping in the basement of the house, “that I instructed you to stay upstairs where you were safe.”

“Well, I did save your life. You could at least be grateful for a bit,” said Georgie, still working on the knots that bound him. She paused for a minute. “Wow, somebody really knows their Boy Scout stuff, don’t they?”

Adam felt sure he could extricate himself more easily without her help: “If you would allow me, now you have so efficiently dealt with Mrs Camberton –”

“There!” said Georgie, making a breakthrough, after attacking the last knot with her teeth. “And don’t forget, there’s still that _awful_ Brierly running about somewhere. You’d better get on and – aargh!”

Brierly had reappeared with impeccable timing to grab hold of Georgina. Adam raised an eyebrow, before finally getting his hands free, enabling him to leap forward and deal Brierly a satisfying blow to the jaw, even as Georgina ducked off to the side. A short struggle ensued, ended when Georgina found his swordstick in the corner where it had fallen earlier (when Mrs Camberton had so fiendishly crept up behind him and knocked him out) and threw it to him, enabling Adam to despatch the murderous Brierly.

Georgie winced.

“I did tell you to remain upstairs.”

She got to her feet and dusted down her skirt. “It’s not that so much – I think that’s ruined the skirt now. I’ll have to pay them if I can’t get it out.”

“Oh, I do apologise, Miss Jones. How careless of me.” He offered her his arm again.

George took it and then swung on it in a most undignified fashion. “Anyway, we did it – and we’ve still got time to enjoy the party!”

“ _Enjoy_?” said Adam in dismay, baffled by the concept as applied to that hellish affair above, with people dressed clownishly hopping up and down arhythmically to noises that rivalled those made by the fiendish torture device that one Dr Reinhardt had once tried to use on him (unsuccessfully, of course). “Endure, perhaps. Enjoy? Impossible!”


End file.
